


Good Old Days

by MakeTheMoon



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 10:37:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12188346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakeTheMoon/pseuds/MakeTheMoon
Summary: Rhett and Link are stressed during Buddy System season 2, leading Link to think their friendship is ending."They should talk about it, he knows. He also knows they won’t. They’ll let it stew, simmer under the surface like all the other times they’ve almost kissed, or fallen asleep together, or seen each other naked."





	Good Old Days

**Author's Note:**

> This was initially inspired by Macklemore and Kesha's new song Good Old Days, but all of the lyrics are from songs on Rhett and Link's Fall Playlist. Also partly inspired by their conversation on Ear Biscuits about how they get each others calendar notifications.
> 
> It's angsty but mostly fluff this time.

“I can’t wait to take a fucking break,” Rhett says, pulling Link from his own self-pitying thoughts. “Not even a vacation - doesn’t have to be a vacation, just a break. One day - no. Two days - to lay on the couch or go to the beach or camp in the backyard with the boys.”

It’s the hottest day of the summer - Link feels like it is, whether it actually is or not doesn’t matter. Rhett’s driving him home from set again, and the backs of Link’s knees are sticking to the insides of his legs. He would cut them off if he could right now.

Link nods even though Rhett can’t see him, says “as long as it’s not with you, I agree.” He regrets it, wasn’t aware of how vitriolic it would sound coming out of his mouth. He winces at himself but doesn't apologize.

The last face he wants to see tomorrow morning is Rhett’s. Fourteen hours a day, six days a week he has to look at the same face. Then another 6 hours on the 7th day to organize upcoming work. They barely see their families, all they do is work and sleep. Neither of them have eaten in five hours. It feels like the apocalypse in Link’s world. Every man for himself.

Rhett gives him a fleeting look and turns up the radio.

_And all the night's magic seems to whisper and hush_  
_And all the soft moonlight seems to shine in your blush_

 

_“Hey, man! How’d it go?” Link yelled out the window over the sound of a dozen idling vehicles, all filled with kids in their parents trucks, music pouring out of each one. Rhett looked less than excited._

_“She hated it. Can you even believe that?” Rhett said as he slid up into the truck._

_Link laughed, loud and sharp, “I mean, yeah - that movie’s not for girls, Rhett.”_

_Rhett’s eyebrows drew together, confused or deep in thought, Link couldn’t tell, before he said “That’s not fair. Girls can like boy things and boys can like girl things. Right?”_

_Link’s own eyebrows furrowed as he searched his brain for any girly things he liked - he was coming up empty._

_“You love Pretty Woman, Link. That’s a girl’s movie,” Link couldn’t even be annoyed, because how in the world did Rhett know what he was thinking?_

_“Yeah, but. Well. I guess so,” was all Link could throw back. He often felt inadequate in his debate skills when he was with Rhett, but it didn’t matter much because Rhett didn’t seem to mind. Link turned up the radio a little, Van Morrison’s voice carrying over the sound of the truck pulling out of the parking lot, and continued. “Anyway, I’m sorry your date sucked. Think you’ll ask her out again?”_

_“Mm, nah. I don’t think we’d work out,” was all Rhett said in response, and Link knew enough to know that Rhett didn’t really want to talk about it._

_They drove around town, chatting about big and little things - the universe, homework, Rhett’s basketball game next weekend, the meaning of life - singing along to the radio in between. It was easy. It was Link’s favourite hobby._

 

Link fiddles with his phone, adds Moondance to a playlist

 

It doesn’t help that sometime in the next few days Link knows he has to kiss Rhett. It’s stupid, and it shouldn’t be that weird, and it certainly shouldn’t be making him even grumpier than he is. If anything it should be funny, should be making him happy. He knows that it will be great. The fans will love it. _They_ loved it when they wrote it. Up late at night laughing till they cried, writing stupid scenarios for their single characters - exploring a life they've never lived.

It occurs to him that Rhett could be regretting writing the bit, getting him worked up and tense. They should talk about it, he knows. He also knows they won’t. They’ll let it stew, simmer under the surface like all the other times they’ve almost kissed, or fallen asleep together, or seen each other naked.

Link has one earbud pulled out so he can hear the distant LA traffic and chattering squirrels, so he hears it when Rhett’s car pulls up in the driveway. Link looks out the living room window, the setting sun blinding him, and Rhett frankly looks like shit - spent, defeated even. He’s got something in his hand that makes Link’s heart flutter in his chest. Rhett's letting himself in so Link pulls out the other earbud.

“I know you said you didn’t want to see me ever again, but that sucks for you, here I am,” Rhett jokes. There’s not a lot of amusement in it, but at least he’s joking, so Link knows the jab in the car couldn’t have been too painful.

“That’s not exactly what I said and you know it. Besides, you said basically the same thing and now you’re here. What’s that?” Link nods towards the CD that Rhett was flipping over and over in his hands. They’ve always made each other mix-tapes, and it's always been interesting to string the songs together, derive a story out of them. Rhett doesn’t answer except for a small hum as he puts the CD in the stereo, starting it up. Rhett comes to the couch, touches Link’s feet for him to move, so Link does - lifts them, waits for Rhett to sit, then puts them back down softly on Rhett’s thigh.

There’s a warm breeze coming through the window, the last few rays of sun keeping the room warm - Rhett’s hair is golden, the curls reflecting the sunset. When he turns towards him it takes Link a moment to remember to breathe. Rhett smiles wide, goofy, pats Link’s foot to the beat of the music, head bobbing slightly. He appears relaxed, but Link can tell he’s as pent up as Link is himself, body thrumming with stress.

A few minutes later Rhett heads to the kitchen, making himself at home - Link’s happy about that; this is Rhett's home too if he wants it to be.

_In the town one morning I went_  
_Staggering through premonitions of my death_  
_I don't see anybody that dear to me_

 

_It was by far the worst hotel room on their trip, but it was a place to sleep and shower._

_“Shower shotgun!” Rhett yelled, pulling off his shirt and dropping his bag by the sole double bed._

_“That doesn’t even make sense. That would be, like, if I’m showering and you’re standing right outside of it. Or something. Whatever, I’m too tired to argue, go ahead.” Link’s voice got lower and fizzled out as he realized Rhett had already closed the door and turned the water on. Link dropped onto the bed, noticing right away that it was too small. And if it was too small for him, Rhett didn’t stand a chance. A pang of guilt ran through him, so Link wracked his brain for a solution. He knew it would kill Rhett’s back to sleep on this bed, he could picture him trying to pull his knees up to his chest, tossing and turning all night._

_Then Link saw the couch and it looked like maybe it could be a pull-out. He got up, hearing the faint sound of Rhett’s voice from the shower, singing some song Link couldn’t place._

_Sure enough, the couch gave way when Link pulled, so he unfolded it and sized it up. It actually looked bigger than the bed, certainly longer. He smiled with pride at himself, feeling good about his act of kindness already._

_Link was back on the double bed watching TV when Rhett opened the bathroom door and stepped out, white towel wrapped around his waist, hair down on his forehead. He was mostly dry except where his hair was dripping down his neck and shoulders._

_“Woah, we’ve got a futon? Lucky us,” he said as he sat on the end of the pull-out bed, giving it a test bounce. Link saw the look of mild approval cross his face, and he mentally patted himself on the back for his nice gesture._

_“Yeah, this bed is too small for either of us, really, so,” and Link didn’t think he’d said anything weird until Rhett met his eyes with a confused and intense look._

_“What, you want us to share this thing?” Rhett asked._

_“What? No, you - what?”_

_“Well if that bed is too small for either of us…” Rhett prompted, and Link felt himself get red, heat rising to his cheeks._

_“No, I just meant - I meant I’d take this bed and you can take the bigger one. I was trying to be nice.” Rhett snorted at that and a mischievous smile flitted across his lips, but he dropped it._

_It was one o’clock in the morning before they were able to settle, and Link was having just as hard a time getting comfortable in this bed as he figured Rhett would have. He heard Rhett sigh and shuffle._

_“Get over here.” Rhett’s voice cut through the silence of the room, and Link jumped a bit, but he didn’t hesitate to climb out of his bed and into Rhett’s. It wasn’t the first time they’d shared a bed - hell it wasn’t the first time they’d shared a bed on this trip - and Link figured it wouldn’t be the last._

_They lay facing each other, knees touching and hands close to their own chests. Rhett handed Link an earbud, and Link saw him scrolling through his iPod landing on a Fleet Foxes song that they had already listened to a few dozen times on their trip. Neither of them were sick of it yet, and Link thought that if he could experience it like this every time, he’d never want to turn it off._

 

Link adds another song to his playlist.

 

“Link, jesus, calm down,” Rhett’s nearly shouting at him, matching Link’s tone, so Link escalates. Rhett should know that ‘calm down’ is the last thing you say to someone you want to calm down. Link realizes Rhett _does_ know that, and that makes him boil over.

There’s a very short shouting match before Stevie throws the door open, eyes wide and jaw set. “Guys, if you don’t lower your voices and work out whatever this is as adults, you’re going to have to go somewhere else - no one else is getting any work done here.”

Rhett is standing near his desk, forehead wet with sweat, and Link feels bad for a moment for being the cause of it, but it was Rhett’s own fault - he started it. He’s pretty sure. Although Link’s comment about how maybe this whole stupid show was a mistake certainly didn’t help.

Link stands from the couch and crosses the room, touching Stevie on the arm as a thank you, and leaves.

He’s not sure where he’s going to go, exactly. He makes his way out of the building and to his car, thankful that he had driven that day.

He opens Spotify, scrolling through, trying to find something that appeals to his temper. He didn’t want to calm down. He was angry, he was upset, he felt like he was losing something - his mind, or the show, or his friend, or everything. _This show was a mistake_ , Link thinks, _I’ll stick to that_. It caused too much stress, too much tension. They’ve taken on too much at one time, especially now near the end of filming when they were trying to record the podcast again, trying to flesh out Good Mythical Morning episodes, finalize the book, write songs for the tour - why the hell they thought all of that was a good idea was beyond him.

He’s startled when he hears guitar and a familiar voice coming through his car’s speakers. As much as he didn’t want to calm down, Merle Haggard was always able to do it.

Link looked at his phone and saw that it was playing through his Spotify, and he put it together. Rhett was logged into his account. He couldn’t decide what made him angrier - the idea that Rhett didn’t realize he was logged into the wrong account, or the idea that Rhett had done it on purpose.

_Most of my life I've almost been a winner  
I've come so close but never really won _

 

_“Well,” Link started, “it wasn’t cancelled.”_

_“Right. It just wasn’t renewed. Same difference, Link.”_

_“Not really - they didn’t actively hate it. We filmed it, they aired it. It didn’t do as well as they had hoped, so they didn’t order anymore. It’s not like we got halfway through filming and then had to call it quits.”_

_“Well, you can’t blame me for feeling like they’re pretty similar,” Rhett said, and he sounded absolutely defeated. “What do we do now? We moved our whole family - families - out here. What, we tell ‘em to pack it all back up? ‘We failed, sorry gals, let’s uproot ya again, back to North Carolina we go’?”_

_"Rhett, now you’re just being ridiculous. Of course we don’t. We stay here, we figure something else out. We’ll do a stupid morning show or something if it means we stay out here for another while, give it another shot.”_

_Rhett snorted and looked up to meet Link’s eyes, and Link smiled, warm. He touched Rhett’s shoulder gently, and slowly dragged his hand across his shoulders and neck to his other side, pulling him into a side hug._ Like dealing with a scared puppy _, Link thought;_ don’t move too fast or you’ll startle him _._

_Rhett surprised him then, with his suggestion, “let’s go to the beach. We’re in California and we haven’t even gone to the beach.”_

_Link huffed. “What? Yes we have, tons of times.”_

_“Not really! We haven’t gone to spend a day there, lounge around, swim in the ocean - Link - we’ve never swam in the Pacific.” Rhett’s eyes were wide and he was talking with his hands, genuinely excited._

_He was right, and Link couldn’t argue with logic, so they packed a bag and headed down the highway, a drive that would have taken 15 minutes in North Carolina taking them closer to an hour._

_They laid their towels out side by side, and as they were settling in they heard Merle Haggard from somewhere down the beach, saw some older women blasting an old boombox._

_“That’s got to be a sign, right? We’re in the right place at the right time,” Link said._

_“‘This just in - two down-on-their-luck men discover sign on crowded beach by way of Merle Haggard singing about being a loser.’ Got a good ring to it, I think.”_

_“No no no, you’re thinking of it all wrong, Rhett. It would be a game. ‘Match the Depressing Song Lyrics to the Country Singer.’” Link responded, hoping for a chuckle. He got one._

_“‘How does a song about losers push two losers to become winners?’” Rhett fired back, getting into the game._

_“‘Let’s talk about that.’” Link said in his best announcer voice, and Rhett laughed at that, his full-bodied laugh._

_“Now, let’s talk about getting in this water. Race ya,” and Rhett got to his feet before Link even heard the words. Link got up and jogged to the water, feeling the spray of the waves on his torso. He watched Rhett jump in and call out to him, hollering something about how Link owed him lunch after this. He was fine with that as long as it meant Rhett was happy and by his side. They’d figure something out._

 

Another song was added to Link’s growing playlist.

 

“Are you going to freak out?” Stevie asks, one hand on her hip, coffee in the other. The skin around her eyes is dark, like theirs, but her voice is soft where theirs are rough, tense and overused.

“I don’t see why I would,” Link answers, already knowing it sounds like a lie.

Stevie scoffs but doesn’t mock him, doesn’t say anything at all because then Rhett is rushing through the door, apologizing for being late.

“You’ve never been late a day in your life, Rhett, I think you’re fine,” Link’s trying for soft, like Stevie.

“Exactly, I hate ending records, man, you know this.”

Rhett holds out a coffee towards Link and shoots him an exaggerated hurt look, hand dramatically over his heart, when Link holds up the one he already has.

They’re acting, Link knows - they’ve been acting 24 hours a day for 6 weeks straight and they’re done, at the end of the rope, and the end of the rope is frayed and also on fire. This can only end in disaster, and Link is terrified. This is more than 30 years of history, of friendship, of love, hanging on by a thread. They've never been this fragile for this long before.

Rhett’s hand comes to rest on top of Link’s where they’re in his lap wringing together, picking at his cuticles, pulling his nails apart. He stops fidgeting at the touch, and instead focuses on his lip and the insides of his cheek, biting at any skin he can find. Rhett sighs next to him and looks straight forward, pretending to listen to anything anyone is saying. The heat and weight of Rhett’s hand doesn’t leave him, though, and Link’s fear subsides for a moment.

Someone broaches the topic of the kiss, the scripted kiss, the scripted kiss that Rhett wrote that everyone has known about for months but no one has spoken about in detail. The topic is brought up because it’s scheduled for tomorrow. The day that Link had tried to put aside as any other day came up on him like a freight train. Link’s chest is tight and he can feel every heartbeat where their hands are touching. It feels like the room might implode. It’s hard to concentrate on the conversation but every time he looks up everyone else's face is neutral, like they’re talking about how they take their coffee or what their favourite ice cream is and not about how their bosses are going to alter their relationship forever in less than 24 hours.

Then Chase is talking about some song, wondering if anyone else has heard it, pulling out his phone to play it. Everyone moves on, Rhett’s laughing light and airy next to him, corners of his eyes crinkling and nose scrunching. He never moves his hand from Link’s.

_I can see a place of trouble_  
_And I'm on the verge_  
_For the love of everybody_  
_I need something more_

 

_Link walked into the building; it was late, all the lights off, quieter than it ever gets during the day, even when everyone is hard at work. The closer Link got to their office, though, he started to think he was hallucinating, could hear a light sound from the end of the hallway. Their office door was cracked open, and he knew they locked it before leaving for the day._

_Link pushed the door open, straining his eyes in the dark. He could hear the music now, loud enough to be heard clearly in the room, but not able to filter very far outside of it. He couldn’t see Rhett but knew he was there._

_“Hey man. Wasn’t expecting anybody here this late,” Rhett whispered. “You forget something?”_

_“Yeah, some paperwork. What are you doing here?”_

_“Mm. Thinking. Listening.”_

_“Are you going through a midlife crisis, because I uh, I don’t think I’m the best person for that.” Link still could barely see him, only his silhouette draped across the couch, long legs hanging over the arm._

_Rhett turned to look at him and Link saw a flash of light reflect off his eyes, his mouth, what looked like tear tracks on his cheeks._

_“Hey. No, wait, that was a joke. What’s going on, Rhett.” It wasn’t a question, and he knew Rhett knew that._

_It took some persuasion, but Link managed to get him talking. Rhett was the more openly sensitive one of the two of them, but he didn’t like to open up for Link even after all these years. Through a lot of half sentences and broken thoughts, Link pieced together that things with Jessie weren’t great - not horrible, maybe, but enough to scare him. But he also knew that wasn’t the real problem. He could get through that, they both could, they have before and they surely will again._

_After a heavy lull, Rhett finally gave Link something to work with. “If I can lose Jessie, I can lose anyone, right? Anything? She’s my wife. The love of my life. The mother of my children. What are you? Just my friend. To the universe, me and you, we’re nothing compared to me and Jessie, so if I can lose her, what’s keeping you here?” Link’s stomach was churning, his hands trembling._

_“Why do you think I’m going anywhere?”_

_“Because you can, if you want. Until now I thought you couldn’t. You couldn’t leave me, we were us. We’re Rhett and Link, we have to stay together, but we don’t - you can go whenever you want, and I don’t know how to deal with that.”_

_Link was sitting near the couch, on the floor by Rhett’s head, facing him. Rhett’s arm and hand were hanging straight out, and Link put his shoulder under Rhett's hand, leaned his face into his wrist. Link put his lips to the skin there, could feel his pulse, smell his scent - his Rhett scent, nothing specific, just Rhett. He sealed his lips and blew, hard, pulling his head back quickly to avoid the inevitable smack to the face as best he could._

_The sound of Rhett laughing was worth the slight abuse, worth the stinging of his ear from Rhett’s knuckles. “Why you gotta be that way, man? I’m trying to be real, and you come in here raspberries at the ready.”_

_Link grinned and shuffled closer to the couch, leaning his back against it near Rhett’s chest, and Rhett’s arm came back out to wrap around the front of Link’s neck._

_“I’m not going anywhere, Rhett, alright? We’ve got the paperwork signing our lives over to each other for fuck’s sake. My blood is on that thing.”_

_“Well it doesn’t exist anymore, so the contract could be void. I don’t know the ins and outs of blood brother contract law.”_

_“I’m pretty sure that once it’s signed in blood it doesn’t matter where in the world it is, or even what it is at this point. Once it’s signed there’s no going back. That’s the point.” Link felt like his voice was confident enough to be reassuring, maybe._

_“If you ever worry about this, if you ever think I’m going to leave, just talk to me. Okay? Please. Promise me that you’ll come to me if we’ve got a problem, or if I’m being an idiot,” Rhett said quietly. “I can’t imagine doing any of this without you, bo.”_

_“Me either, Rhett. I will, alright? I promise.”_

 

Link manages to get his hand out of Rhett’s grasp long enough to grab his phone and add another song to the playlist.

 

They didn’t rehearse the actual kiss, is the thing, and Link is wondering if that was a mistake. The first time they kiss will be in front of their crew, and that’s just going to be awkward.

They need to talk about it.

The problem is that it’s too late. Rhett’s here to pick him up, like he always is at 6:00am. The last place Link wants to have this conversation is in a car.

It’s strange that they’ve gone this long without kissing. It’s been 30 years and they’ve never touched their lips together. They've come close, mostly on camera, and it seems fitting that their first full kiss would be on camera as well.

The day trudges along, alternately feeling like time is slipping away and time has stopped, and before he knows it they’re on the set.

“Rhett. Rhett, we have to talk,” Link murmurs quietly, scanning to make sure no one is within ear-shot.

“No, Link. Not now we don’t. You don’t get to do that right now,” Rhett says, and it takes Link a second to realize that Rhett knows exactly what’s going through his mind.

By the time Link has shuffled his thoughts back in order, gotten his heart under control, wipes his palms on his pants three, four more times, they’re set up in the shot.

It’s supposed to be funny. It’s supposed to be tongue-in-cheek. There’s a reference to a GMM from months ago, where the comments had been filled with people who thought they had been about to kiss. Then, Rhett’s on one knee in front of Link, looking up at him, saying his lines. Rhett’s a good actor, Link thinks. Link’s not sure he can say the same for himself right now, as he watches Rhett slowly stand, long arm snaking around his waist - low, lower than they had decided on - wrapping all the way around to his other hip, and pulling Link in close.

They get close like this often; it shouldn’t be that different, their bodies pressed against one another like this. Link can feel Rhett’s thigh all along his own, up onto his hip, and he can see Rhett’s eyelids flutter from here.

He’s determined now more than ever to get this done in one take. Link says his line, something silly, something far too rom-com to take seriously, and then he leans up. He stands on his toes which is fascinating - he’s never had to do that to kiss anyone and it’s kind of nice.

The kiss is chaste - they had at least discussed that - no tongue, no lip movement, but very light, and it feels too romantic for the scene they’ve written. It should be funnier, Link thinks, and he starts to panic. He doesn’t want to do this again - not like this.

They pull their lips apart, Rhett still holding onto him - Link’s hands limp at his sides, body leaned back, Rhett the only reason he’s not falling backwards - and Link says his last line. There’s just enough time between the end of the line and when the crew start cracking up, Stevie’s higher laugh cutting above the others, and they’re able to step back, Rhett letting him go. He feels lighter as soon as he hears the laughter and knows that it’s genuine, knows that they must have gotten it right.

They stand a little further apart than normal when watching it back, Stevie looking over their shoulders as they crouch to see the small screen. It looks great, of course. It’s funny and it fits and it works, and Link feels relieved and exhausted, drained.

They get to work on the last few shots, simple things that take them longer to set up than to shoot, and a couple hours later they’re heading out the door - still walking a few feet away from each other, never brushing together. Link feels cold all along his right side, like he’s missing something, half of his clothes or his shelter or - or something.

They chat in the car, about the types of things they always chat about on the way home - the weather, a new song they’ve heard, how the day went. The kiss comes up briefly, just long enough for them both to express their gratefulness that they got it done in one take, and then they’re moving on.

Somehow, through the awkward glances and uncomfortable laughter, they feel more like themselves tonight than they have in weeks. Less tension, less insults, less fingernails leaving marks in palms. Something has ebbed where it was flowing before, making way for a new type of tension, a more welcome kind, more pleasant. It feels like the old days and Link doesn’t want to think too hard about why.

“Hey. D’you want to go to the pier?” Rhett asks. “It’s not too late, right? Or are you an old man who goes to bed at nine these days?” Link shoots him a glance, brow furrowed in faux indignation.

“No, let’s go.”

They tread down close to the waves, kicking their shoes and socks off part way down and opting to carry them instead. Link can hear music from the pier, watches the lights flickering over Rhett’s face. Link grabs a handful of wet sand, tries to form it into a ball, and pitches it towards Rhett. Rhett’s ‘ooph’ is satisfying enough, but when he looks up Rhett’s got mud dripping from his hair to his shoulders, squinting his left eye, a look of mischief on his face. Rhett tilts his head and starts towards Link.

_But there's a full moon risin'_  
_Let's go dancin' in the light_  
_We know where the music's playin'_  
_Let's go out and feel the night._

 

_The left side of Link's face was burning, in sharp contrast to the cold of the rest of him, his frozen toes and numb fingers. He turned his head, forcing an angry look on his face, and looked at Rhett. In the moonlight, Link could see that Rhett’s lips were drawn into his mouth, and the crinkles around his eyes were sign enough that he was laughing._

_Link gathered up a handful of snow, trying to keep his balance on his board, and threw the snowball as hard as he could. With only one working eye, his aim was off and he clipped Rhett’s shoulder. Rhett laughed then, full-bodied, bending and clutching at his waist._

_“You’re such an idiot,” Link said, smile creeping onto his lips._

_The light from the lodge glowed warm on Rhett through the windows, the Christmas tree twinkling in the corner, and for a moment Link thought maybe he wouldn’t tackle Rhett. They heard music get louder, the squeak of a door, and Gregg calling them to come inside for dinner. Link was getting off his board._

_When the door closed again and Rhett was just getting his breath back, Link took the few steps he needed to jump at Rhett, grab him around both arms, and throw all his weight onto him._

_They fell hard, cushioned by soft snow. Link was kneeling next to him, pummeling gentle punches into Rhett’s side and shoulders, and Rhett’s laughter quieted. He shimmied one arm free of Link’s grasp, and pointed up, eyebrows raised._

_Link followed his finger and saw a particularly bright star. They could see more out here than in the city but the moon was so bright it was overpowering most of the stars around it._

_“I think that’s a planet, Link. What one do you think it is?”_

_“It’s big. Jupiter?” Link was guessing, knew his logic wasn’t quite on point._

_“Mm. Maybe. Doesn’t matter.” Link looked down at Rhett, who was looking back at him now, grinning. Link rolled onto his butt, heard Rhett breathe deeply next to him, felt Rhett’s hand rest on his knee. Whatever argument they were having before Rhett fired that snowball at him vanished. Link couldn’t remember what it was about - his snowboarding technique, maybe, or that he didn’t want the same thing as everyone else for dinner._

_“We should head in,” he said, tapping Rhett on the chest with his index finger._

_"Just a few more minutes,” Rhett answered. So they waited. They listened to the faint sound of Neil Young creeping out the cracked open door. They could see everyone from here - their wives and kids, old friends and new - inside the dining room of the lodge. Link took a moment to be grateful that they managed to get everyone together for Christmas._

_It was 20 minutes later that they finally helped each other up and trudged inside, damp clothes bogging them down, hair wet and faces red._

 

Rhett’s tackling him before he gets the chance to react, and when he hits the ground he groans and hears Rhett grumble something about being old but doesn’t move - neither of them do.

Rhett’s weight on him is welcome, something Link hasn’t felt in too long. They don’t often wrestle these days, and Rhett hasn’t pulled the ‘I’m dead’ move since that one wheel ending, and with Link’s shoulder and Rhett’s back they’ve toned down the physical playing.

“We’re going to be okay, y’know,” Rhett says, matter-of-fact, no sign of nervousness or doubt in his voice. His breath is hot on Link’s neck where the top buttons of his shirt are open, his nose in the curve under Link’s jaw.

“How do you know?”

“Because I know everything,” and Rhett’s not able to say it without laughing at the end, doesn’t quite get through the confident declaration. He’s got his hands on Link now, one on Link’s wrist held out by his shoulder, the other holding himself up in the sand but half under Link’s back at his waist.

Rhett’s lips brush Link’s skin at his collar, then more firmly presses down onto his collarbone. Rhett feels small like this, tucked into Link. He lifts his head then, pinning Link in place with his body and his eyes, “we’ve got a lot to talk about, I know that. But I kind of just wanted to enjoy today.”

“You _enjoyed_ today? Rhett, I was on the verge of a panic attack all day.”

Rhett laughs again, eyes sparkling, says “I know, I’m your best friend, remember? I know you’ve been freaking out. That’s why I left you alone. You do better when you think through your own shit first.”

“Okay, but _you_ don’t. You’ve been freaking out too, why didn’t you come talk to me first?”

Rhett lowers his head into Link's neck again. “I wasn’t freaking out. I was nervous, sure, but mostly just tired and hungry. They don’t feed us enough on those sets.” Link knows what Rhett gets like when he’s both tired and hungry, and putting them together could result in - well, in exactly what he’s been seeing from Rhett in the last few weeks. Frustrated, cranky, easily riled up. Maybe not freaking out about a kiss that he wrote himself. And still being there when Link needed him.

Link takes a breath, asks what he didn't realize he wanted to know, “did you write it because it was funny, or did you write it because you wanted to kiss me?”

Rhett chokes a little, coughs into Link’s shirt, then lets go of Link’s wrist and raises himself up over Link - he’s massive now, after feeling so small before. His eyes are searching Link’s face and Link searches back - he can’t tell what the answer is going to be.

“I wrote it because it felt right,” is what he finally says.

Link’s chest tightens, he can feel his heart beating against his ribs, shuddering hot through his veins. “After 30 years, marriage, kids, moving across the country - now it feels right?”

“Yep. Can’t explain it.” Rhett falls back onto Link, heavy, knocking the breath out of him. Rhett’s not taking this seriously, but Link likes that. It means he’s happy. It means he’s going with the flow, along for the ride, and when Rhett is along for the ride Link has always been ready to hop on with him.

“Okay. So we’re okay, even though today was super weird.”

“Of course. We’re always okay. We’re Rhett and Link, we’re a team, we’re us - we’re a couple, if not in the traditional sense at least in the literal sense. We’ve gone through weirder and worse, why would this be any different?”

Link hadn’t thought of it that way. They’ve had fights, physical or otherwise, that ended in bruised ribs and egos; they’ve gone days without speaking, both separately thinking ‘this is it, the last straw’; they’ve almost died, or done things stupid enough that it could have ended in death. Their friendship should have ended a million times over, but it hasn’t. Why Link ever thought a scripted kiss would negate all they’ve been through, he’s not sure.

“Always the voice of reas - oof,” Link gets cut off by Rhett’s knuckles in his ribs, then his world is being turned on its side as Rhett rolls off of him and tugs at his back, flipping them over. Link’s knee is between Rhett’s legs, their hips together and even though Link is looking down over Rhett he still has to look up to see his face - natural, easy, Link thinks. Where he's supposed to be.

Rhett’s hands are firmly planted around Link’s hips, fingertips barely under the waistband of his jeans, thumbs in the dimples on his back. Link sinks down, mirroring Rhett’s own position earlier, putting his head in Rhett’s neck. This is new. Link was starting to think they couldn’t do anything new anymore. He lets himself enjoy it, like Rhett had been, vowing to wait until tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, to finally talk about it. Rhett's hand rubbing up and down his back is comforting, and Link can smell whatever Rhett had used in his beard - sandalwood or tobacco, something masculine.

Link sits up, straddling one of Rhett’s legs and pulls his phone from his pocket. He scrolls through to Spotify and opens up his playlist, adds one last song then looks back at Rhett. For a moment he allows himself to take it in. His new favourite thing is Rhett’s small smile through his beard, and the one quirked, questioning eyebrow.

Link grins and hits play. He sits back further on his heels and watches Rhett’s face shift from questioning to understanding. Rhett’s hands move to Link’s thighs, tapping out the rhythm with his fingers. Link sways along.

Link’s been scared of the future, thinking about the past; missing out on now. Wishing for the old days. He promises to take in more, make more memories, start new things.

When he feels the sting of tears in his eyes, he breathes deeply, holds them back. He rolls to the side to lay on his back and reaches for Rhett’s hand. Their fingers tangle loosely; their heads turn towards each other, eyes closed; they hum along, listening to their playlist over the sounds of the pier and the waves. They quietly talk about the memories and come up with new ideas, each conversation entangled in the last, Rhett getting more and more animated the further into the stories he gets. Link doesn’t mind being jostled around tonight. He enjoys it. Absorbs it all, keeps close to the body next to him, anchored in place, in life. Rhett's been right there for every significant event, every inconsequential moment, and he'll be there for the next ones. His past and future are all rolled into one tall package. Link's right side is warm again and he's comfortable. _This is good_ , he thinks. _This is going to be good._

_It's knowing that this can't go on forever_  
_Likely one of us will have to spend some days alone_  
_Maybe we'll get forty years together_  
_But one day I'll be gone or one day you'll be gone_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been reading my fics! This is all brand new to me and it's so nice to see such positive feedback - I'm working hard to improve and I hope I can keep writing and keep being inspired by these dudes and all of you <3


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